She told him they were leaving, that the true site of the war was on the other side of the world, a place known as Fuyuki City. Unquestioningly, he followed her to wherever her destination was. He would appreciate leaving; all of her servants reminded him of the Undead, and he was filled with an immense rage at the mere thought of their existence. Though he could not remember from where this rage came. He rationalized that the Undead are, by their nature, abominations, and they, and anything resembling them, should be unceremoniously eradicated. Before he fully realized, Illya had transported them to their new location. Time was not a concept he fundamentally understood: objectively long periods of time blended together for him, only being realized when the matter was brought up by his Master.

Their new locale was similar to that of the previous. The style and masonry of the building was clearly the same as the building they left, and it possessed a magical barrier surrounding it. However, instead of white fields surrounding the building, there was an expansive forest, verdant green encompassing one's entire vision. It elicited feelings of nostalgia for him, giving him a sense of calm. Yet, underneath that calmness, he felt a twinge of urgency, as though there were some important task bestowed upon him. The inside was to be sparsely furnished, save for the room where Illya would be sleeping and and a room filled with magical materials for her to practice with. By the time Illya's servants had finished preparing everything, night had fallen upon them.

"Artorias," Illya called, sitting in her room. In response to her summons, he willed himself into a physical form, a talent he acquired due to being summoned for this war. "Do you like this place?" He nodded. He had no real reason to dislike it. His Master had also decided to bring only two of her attendants in response to his animosity towards the lot of them.

"The war has officially started," Illya said after a brief pause. "Are you prepared?" He nodded once more. War was something familiar; he was accustomed to battle and he had seen enough that one more would not phase him. But Illya held a darkened countenance. During their trek here, she had seemed pensive, though he could not guess what was on her mind. It worries him. Through their brief time together, his Master usually portrayed a sense of joviality. Surely this change was not because she doubted his ability?

"Have you thought about what you would do with the Grail?" He shook his head. He is not concerned with that right now. The only thing he had wanted was to be free from the Darkness. His Master had liberated him, and it was for this reason that he pledged himself to her. Though if he had to decide at this moment, it would he the ability to speak. "That is quite alright," she said. "With your strength, we are bound to win this war regardless, so there will be time…" Once again, a grave expression had shown on her face.

"I'm glad you are prepared. Out of all we must accomplish in this war, there is one thing I resolve. I need to take revenge on Kiritsugu Emiya."

Of course. Kiritsugu Emiya, her father. She had spoken of him before, of how he betrayed her and her family. A quest for vengeance. Understandable. If this is what his Master wished, then he would comply.

"I'm glad you understand," she said, her usual smile returning. She stood and walked to the door. "I'll have Sella find out where he is. Until then-" Artorias placed a hand on her shoulder, urging her to stop. He would not have one of those abominations perform a task he could accomplish much more quickly and efficiently. And if this task was as important as she said, it would behoove them to perform it as quickly as possible. "Well, aren't you eager?" she said, sensing his intent. Illya had to agree with Artorias. She would prefer to do this immediately, and who knows how long it would take Sella to track him down. It might be showing her hand earlier than intended, but if she could resolve some of her frustrations, then it would be worth the risk. "If this is what you think is best, then by all means, lead the way." Gingerly, he lifted his Master and securely cradled her close to his body. After making sure she was gripping tightly, he leapt out of a nearby window. Wanting to give his Master a more accurate representation of his power and endurance, he exited the forest as fast as he could: what was supposed to be a four hour walk ended up becoming a scarcely twenty minute series of leaps and bounds. Illya was decidedly impressed. Though she did notice how Artorias still managed to carry his sword in his left hand; quickly after summoning him she realized his left arm was broken, and no magic she or anyone else performed was able to fix it. This truly was a testament to Artorias' strength. "That's enough," Illya said once they reached Fuyuki City proper. "I'll walk from here."

This particular night was relatively calm, Illya had noticed. No regular person would expect the magical events that would soon transpire in this very city. But she didn't care. At this moment, the only thing on her mind was revenge. To this end, any casualties suffered were immaterial. But she wouldn't focus on that right now. Her top priority at the moment was to find Kiritsugu Emiya. She and Artorias walked through a park, wanting to avoid anyone that would be awake at this hour in the more commercial districts of the city. Though the night was peaceful, albeit overcast, Artorias was still on guard. He had not forgotten that they were technically fighting a war. He tightly gripped his sword, wary of everything and expecting anything.

"I heard that Kiritsugu had adopted another child while he lived here," Illya began, resentment dripping from her words. "How can he be so flippant? Ignoring me… His actual daughter like that… It's infuriating. It's almost like-" In a singular movement, Artorias grabbed Illya, a brilliant lightning strike crashing down where she previously stood. With swift leaps, he deftly evaded a series of several other strikes of lightning, raining from the sky. Fearing for his Master's safety, Artorias set Illya on the ground, and as more lightning strikes threatened him, he readied his sword. With a grand swing, Artorias cleaved the lightning in two, redirecting the strikes away from him in violent explosions. "Getting attacked already?" Illya said. "Today is just full of surprises." There was a pause, the lightning had stopped, yet the two of them were very cautious, looking for any signs of movement. With light steps, a figure emerged from the shadows. Even in the darkness, Illya could clearly make out the figure: clad in golden armor, and wielding an equally golden lance, with a helmet that resembled a fierce lion, the figure stood before them.

"At first sight, I had thought you an imposter," The figure said, voice gruff, yet confident. "But skill like that can only mean you are truly Artorias. My apologies for attacking you both."

"...Explain yourself," Illya said, still wary of this new challenger.

"Of course," The figure said. In practiced form, the figure bowed before Illya. "I am known as Dragonslayer Ornstein, proud member of the Knights of Gwyn." Artorias tensed. The name was familiar to him, but that was all. "The same order Artorias belongs to." Artorias growled at the mention of his name. He could feel a dull pain forming his his head. "How interesting, that the both of us had been summoned for this paltry task." As Ornstein spoke, the pain in his head grew more intense, evolving from a dull throbbing to what felt like a pike impaling him. As if in response to his pain, the shadows cast by his form seemed to flare. Illya began to wince as well, their connection causing the pain to affect her.

"Hold on," Illya said, ignoring the pain she felt. "Why should I believe you?"

"...Has Artorias not told you? Of our heroic exploits and deeds?"

"Even if he had, how do I know you are not an imposter of some sort?"

"I suppose… that is a good point. Magic certainly has the capacity to do such a thing. But Artorias and I have worked together in the past. Is he not wearing a ring with a wolf embossed on it?" Illya glanced at Artorias' hands. Sure enough, on his left hand he was wearing such a ring. And as she did, the pain in her head grew as well. She brought a hand to her temple, trying to will away the pain to focus on the threat in front of them. The shadows under Artorias continued to flare, even more violently, as if they were the tendrils of some eldritch creature. Ornstein held up his right hand. "This ring I wear has a similar design, but instead of a wolf, it is a lion, proof of our order as the Knights of Gwyn."

Artorias pain grew even more, his head feeling like it would explode. He unleashed a mad howl, the dark shadows causing a violent explosion under him, throwing Illya away from him. Without a thought, Artorias madly charged at Ornstein. Caught by surprise, the Dragonslayer hardly had time to react as he used his lance to guard. Artorias continued his onslaught, violently slashing at Ornstein, who desperately defended against him. Before Artorias could land a hit, Ornstein used his free hand to summon a large bolt of lightning. Artorias saw this, and performed a mighty leap into the air. Just as Artorias was about to bring his sword down, Ornstein used the brief pause to jump backwards, away from Artorias. Illya recovered from being thrown to the ground, to see that Artorias had not wasted any time in charging toward Ornstein, violently attacking again. She noticed that the way he was attacking lacked any of the finesse he had shown previously, attacking carelessly, with no thought other than to attack.

"...It seems that this was a worst case scenario," Ornstein said, finally gaining more distance between them. "The Abyss has changed you in the way I feared the most. To the Master of Artorias, I wish we had more time to talk, but regardless, I implore you: please help him. I know you can." Immediately, Ornstein dissipated, leaving Illya alone with the Berserker. As he left, Illya could feel the pain in her head subside, and Artorias began to calm as well. Illya simply stared at the empty space where the Dragonslayer formerly stood.


A surprising twist that no one saw coming.